Do I even want to be a Divemaster?

More than six months of idleness, if that’s what you’d like to call it.

I may have cycled across a country, thoroughly explored another, attended weddings and other parties, and spent several days diving in Thailand… But really, I haven’t had to “work” for over half a year.

And then I arrived in Labuan Bajo, Indonesia.

I’ve signed myself up to become a divemaster. I’m still not sure what I’m doing with it. Probably nothing. But the accountant tells me the value in it. As I write this, I’m on my third day of a liveaboard trip run by the company. Each night on this boat sets its guests back almost $350 AUD. I get three nights, and my total course only costs me about $2,000 AUD plus some. This trip alone is worth half the cost. On top of that, I learn all sorts of skills, and I get another 40-50 dives in. Cost wise, it’s essentially a bargain.

What I didn’t expect coming in though, was just how many times I’d doubt what I was doing.

I questioned it before I began, only because it’s nearly two months of my time, for a certificate in something I’m unlikely to use. But then I did my accounting.

But now every few days I wonder if I should just stop.

The dive sites around Komodo are amazing – well deserved of their world class status. But for me, while I’ve loved each new place, it’s almost started feeling like a chore.

Throughout the course reading, I’ve been exposed to knowledge of the dangers of diving. A week into my time here I heard of a woman who died at one of the sites I recently went diving at.

This has all meant that I’ve developed a level of worry over diving itself, which isn’t the way to have fun.

But it’s also meant that I take my job as a future Divemaster more seriously than perhaps is really necessary.

On this Liveaboard trip, we have five guests, myself and an Instructor (our guide). As a Divemaster Trainee, I’ve been relegated to the back of the group, and instructed to keep an eye on people.

One guest told me he feels a lot more comfortable knowing I’m behind them. That’s great, and I’m glad I help them in that way. But for me, it’s really made diving feel like work. I feel as if I need to constantly watch this group. I count them every so often to make sure noone is missing. They like to spread out, to the extent that at times I can only just see the fins of some within the visibility limits, while I remain at the back with the slower photographers. I miss seeing the fascinating creatures that live within our oceans. It’s like diving stopped being fun. It’s like I lost my enjoyment for getting in the water.

And then there’s all the skills.

I never put much thought to them, but they’re hard. Some of them are hard enough, or make me feel uncomfortable enough, that I just don’t want to bother with them. Why would I want to do them when this course is all for naught at the end? But do them I must if I’m to complete.

And at the moment, I’m still intending to finish.

I’m not one to just give up.

So while I’ve lost the fun for now, I hope to find it again soon. I just need to get myself out for a few more “fun dives”, where I don’t feel I have a responsibility to watch over others. And as for the skills, perhaps I should just try and get them out of the way. Remove the constant nag of them that sits on my mind while they remain uncompleted.